Five Women Wearing the Same Dress

Saturday, March 24, 2012, Mitch and I attended Little Theater of Norfolk's production of Five Women Wearing the Same Dress with his co-worker, Kristin, and her beau, Donnie. Prior to the show we dined at Orapax. Orapax does not have a very vegetarian friendly menu; however, I do adore their Zorba's pizza. I get the 6" which is the perfect size for me. Of course, our meal is always accompanied by a pitcher of Killian's Red.


Regarding the play, I took this from Little Theater of Norfolk's website: "During an ostentatious wedding reception at a Knoxville, Tennessee, estate, five reluctant, identically clad bridesmaids hide out in an upstairs bedroom, each with her own reason to avoid the proceedings below. They are Frances, a painfully sweet but sheltered fundamentalist; Mindy, the cheerful, wise-cracking lesbian sister of the groom; Georgeanne, whose heartbreak over her own failed marriage triggers outrageous behavior; Meredith, the bride's younger sister whose precocious rebelliousness masks a dark secret; and Trisha, a jaded beauty whose die-hard cynicism about men is called into question when she meets Tripp, a charming bad-boy usher to whom there is more than meets the eye. As the afternoon wears on, these five very different women joyously discover a common bond in this wickedly funny, irreverent and touching celebration of the women's spirit."

I enjoyed the play but found it dragged a wee bit once they introduced the bad-boy Tripp into the mix.

St. Patty's Day Excitement!

Mitch and I attended a St. Patty's Day get together at my dearest friend, Jennifer's, fine home. She had food galore; deviled eggs, pulled pork, chicken wings, and a slew of other delicious yummies that I couldn't partake in, being vegetarian and all. She is baking more of something loaded with much fat and yumminess and it splashed in the oven. I say, "Jen, your oven is on fire." She replies, "No, it's not." I stare at the flames and think (through my Jungle Juice buzz), "that looks like a fire to me." I say, "Yeah, it is." She finally turns around and sees that yes, there truly is a fire starting to rage in her oven. Her niece, little Sadie who is 5 or so, says to her mother, "Is that how we cook in the oven?" Jennifer calmly opens the oven, takes out the three large pans of goodies and says, "Hmmmm, I know it's not flour, or baking powder. Baking soda. Yes, baking soda." She only has a bit and it takes care of some flames but others quickly replace those squelched by the soda. We call on Buddy, her Uncle who was also a fireman at one time, who put the fire out without a thought. Later Jen says, "I am never going to live this down." Nope. I have now posted it on this blog for posterity's sake

Oak Grove Community Lake

Angie came over today and she and I took Bartimaeus for his first walk around Oak Grove Community Lake.  It is a mile and a half and my little trooper made it about one then he flopped over on his back and allowed, yes, I said ALLOWED me to carry him the rest of the way.  It was beautiful out, warm (probably close to 70 degrees) with just the right amount of breeze.  It was the perfect day.

One Pooped Pup

I don't have a picture of this actual event but the one here gives you a general idea of Bartimaeus' posture.  We walked Bartimaeus today after puppy obediance school which is filled with excitement and new smells and his best puppy buddy, Omar.  At the very last leg of our walk, in the middle of the street he flopped over on his back in complete surrender.  It was the funniest thing I have ever seen & I ended up carrying him home.

Spice Anyone?

FlyLady is helping me transform my home. In three fifteen minute periods, I purged all the expired spices, I combined all the duplicates I could, and I organized them alphabetically. I am overjoyed at the simplicity of finding what I need when I cook now!

Bits

This is my life, broken down into bits that I can finally manage to swallow.  I should have done this years ago but I didn't know how.

Crash Hatin'

Crash is completely convinced he will never love, like, tolerate the black scourge we have brought into his life.  He spends a lot of time on things, high things, but soon I am afraid little Bartimaeus will be able to mount these things.  What is a poor cat to do?